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I be careful, Mr. Nietzsche?

      NIETZSCHE: It could be that I am dangerous in my passivity.

      THE DANGEROUS MAN: See?

       (He shoves the cake at Nietzsche, who stumbles away with a giggle of shock.)

       Your passivity is something very intense after all, Mr. Nietzsche.

      NIETZSCHE: Perhaps.

      THE CHILD: No—maybe! That’s what the word “perhaps” really means, really it does. Am I right?

      THE DANGEROUS MAN: You’re right.

      THE CHILD: But, in fact, I want nothing more to do with you, Mr. Nietzsche.

      THE DANGEROUS MAN: She’s right, of course.

      THE CHILD: Knock knock! Mr. Nietzsche.

      NIETZSCHE: Knock knock? Is somebody talking to me?

      THE DANGEROUS MAN: Hey—. Nobody said nothing.

       (The music rises as a wall, decorated much like the others, slides in to hide the room behind. Nietzsche runs to it and runs his hands over its surface.)

      NIETZSCHE: No, somebody who is outside is trying to get inside.

       (The wall slides out, revealing four giant, egg-shaped heads, six feet tall, with faces painted in the center, rocking back and forth. They whisper in falsetto: “Peek a boo!”)

       My dear friends. After you discover me, you find me.

       (The Egg Heads say: “Oww-ee!”)

       The difficulty is now to lose me, Friedrich Nietzsche.

       (He marches clumsily across the front of the stage as the wall slides in front of the Egg Heads and then immediately slides off again, revealing an empty room. At the top of the ocean, framed against the red sun, a Beautiful Woman with naked breasts appears, wearing an occult crown and holding two disks painted with symbols. The music is very loud.)

      THE DANGEROUS MAN (Shouting over the music and indicating the Beautiful Woman, above): Who is that woman up there?

      NIETZSCHE (Prancing about the stage): Well, this is a person who claims she is unable to live without me.

      THE DANGEROUS MAN (Jumping onto a bench to see the Beautiful Woman better): You?

      NIETZSCHE: This is what she secretly tells me!

      THE DANGEROUS MAN: You?

      NIETZSCHE: Not that I believe this is true!

      THE DANGEROUS MAN: Really?

      NIETZSCHE: Do I believe this is true!

      THE DANGEROUS MAN: Well? Do you believe it?

      NIETZSCHE: Yes.

      THE DANGEROUS MAN (Throws his leg up against the wall; he is frightening and semi-erotic): Yes, is it?

       (Nietzsche jumps back in terror.)

       Then whatever happens, you’ll never move from this spot.

      NIETZSCHE: Perhaps—perhaps not. Perhaps, perhaps not—

      THE DANGEROUS MAN: I don’t understand your hesitation.

      NIETZSCHE: No. There is no hesitation. (Shouts loudly) This is Paradise, after all!

       (The Dangerous Man slaps his face. The Beautiful Woman screams then disappears.)

      THE DANGEROUS MAN: This doesn’t look like Paradise, does it now?

      NIETZSCHE: Wrong. Feet, placed firmly on the floor—

      THE DANGEROUS MAN: Pick up your feet when you walk.

      NIETZSCHE: This is Paradise.

      THE BEAUTIFUL WOMAN (Whispering as she peeps around a corner): Paradise.

      NIETZSCHE: The oh-so-poignant torso, twisting slightly to suggest—unimaginable directions.

      THE BEAUTIFUL WOMAN (Whispering as she peeps around a corner): Paradise.

      NIETZSCHE: A certain dizziness entering history by accident.

      THE DANGEROUS MAN: I don’t get it, obviously.

       (The Scholars enter with sheets of paper and a giant-sized pencil. Nietzsche laughs and grabs the pencil, holding it over his head with both hands. The Scholars hold the sheets against the walls, and Nietzsche tries to write on the paper with his giant pencil.)

      NIETZSCHE:

       Here I am, doing my thing in Paradise.

       —I write on paper, write on wall

       With foolish heart a foolish scrawl.

       You say—the hands of fools

       Deface the table and the wall—

       Erase it all! Erase it!

       (The pencil falls to the floor with a loud crash.)

       I try to help the best I can

       I wield a sponge, as you recall

       But when the cleaning up is done

       Let’s see this super sage emit

       Upon the walls, sagacious shit!

       (The Scholars begin beating Nietzsche with whips, as a Voice intones: “Pleased to meet you! Pleased to meet you!”)

      THE DANGEROUS MAN: Jesus Christ—I heard one bad boy, i.e., Bad Boy Nietzsche, using the word “Paradise”—but this does not look like Paradise the way I imagined it.

      NIETZSCHE (Pushing away the Scholars): Wrong.

      THE DANGEROUS MAN: What’s wrong about it?

      NIETZSCHE: Here I am. Doing my thing, in a place that looks very much like Paradise.

      THE DANGEROUS MAN: If Mr. Nietzsche says so, then I guess this is really Paradise.

      NIETZSCHE: Here is a list of potent items.

       (The items start being passed over the walls that simulate the ocean.)

       A crown.

      THE CHILD (Carrying a stuffed toy horse with a crown on its head): Oh yes, here’s a really nice crown.

      NIETZSCHE: A drum.

      THE CHILD: Here comes a big drum.

      NIETZSCHE (Holding up his hand): Hand.

      THE CHILD (As the Scholars hold up their hands): But there are so many hands available, Mr. Nietzsche. How can we choose just one?

      NIETZSCHE: Blindfold! Blindfold!

      THE DANGEROUS MAN (As the Scholars cover Nietzsche and the Dangerous Man’s eyes): Under the circumstances, a blindfold— (He slaps Nietzsche, who grabs a chair to defend himself) —might be appropriate.

      NIETZSCHE: Knife.

      THE DANGEROUS MAN: OK.

      NIETZSCHE: Is a chair appropriate?

      THE DANGEROUS

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